“I am coming with you,” I repeat.
Esha lets out a laugh, swirling her drink. “Relax, Dev. She can manage. It’s just the restroom.”
I shoot Esha a cold look, but Meera has already turned away, walking towards the hallway. The moment she disappears, something sharp twists inside me. I drop back onto the couch, but my body remains coiled tight, my gaze fixed on the direction she’s gone, as though I could drag her back with sheer will.
Esha keeps talking, some nonsense about her spa appointment tomorrow, but I don’t pay attention. I can’t focus on anything except the fact that Meera is out of my sight in a place full of drunk men.
My fingers drum restlessly against my knee, my eyes focused on the hallway.
A full minute passes. Then another.
Fuck. She’s taking too long. Or maybe it just feels like that because every part of me is on high alert. Damn, I just can’t take this torture.
Esha sighs dramatically as she sips her drink. “Dev, she’s fine. Stop acting like a possessive husband.”
I turn my head, giving her a look sharp enough to cut through the dim lounge lighting. “Iama possessive husband.”
“Possessive husband? That’s rich. I sure didn’t get to see this side of you when you were with me,” she taunts, gulping down her drink in one go.
“That side of me wasn’t for you, so you didn’t get to see it,” I respond flatly, and her eyes widen, caught off guard.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to check on mywife,” I add.
Just as I am about to rise to my feet, Esha’s hand lands on my thigh, stopping me. “Dev, don’t…”
I shove her hand away. And before she can protest again, I am already moving through the corridor, the music fading behind me. The deeper I walk into the dimly lit hallway, the colder something burns in my chest.
And when I turn towards the corner near the restrooms, I freeze.
Meera’s hand is pinned against the wall, her mouth smothered as a drunk bastard towers over her, his body nearly pressed into hers, his mouth hovering by her ear as she struggles, trying to shove him away. But the fucker is twice her size, making it impossible for her to push him away.
My vision darkens at the edges, and before I register even moving, my legs carry me across the short distance in a blur. My hand shoots out, clamping onto the bastard’s collar, his entire shirt bunching in my fist, and I yank him off her so hard his feet leave the damn floor.
Meera gasps, a breath of relief that dies the moment my fist connects with his jaw.
“How dare you touch my wife?” I snarl.
He staggers, dazed, blood already spilling from his split lip. “I—I—”
I don’t let him finish. Instead, I grab him again and slam him into the wall. “This is the last mistake you’ll ever make,” I growl. “Because I am going to kill you.”
He chokes, his eyes bulging, legs scrambling for balance.
“Dev, leave him!” Meera grabs my arm, trying to pull me back, but I don’t loosen my grip on the asshole.
I am seconds away from choking him when two of my men appear at the entrance of the corridor.
“Sir?”
I yank the bastard forward and shove him into their arms.
“Handle him,” I snap.
They nod instantly and drag him away down the hall.
Once they’re out of sight, I turn to Meera, my pulse still roaring in my ears.
“Are you okay?” I ask, cupping her cheek. I shouldn’t have let her go alone. My gut had been screaming that it was a bad idea.
